


Morty's First Shave

by orphan_account



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 22:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6095540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-<br/>“You need to-to, start with the easier spots first, Mort. A-And one side at a time.”</p><p>Morty was silent as he watched Rick in wonderment. When Rick extended his neck to get a better angle, he brought his other hand up to pull his skin tighter. Morty felt flush in his cheeks as he stared at Rick’s throat, the razor gliding over his flesh tauntingly. The boy was grateful for the thick white foam covering his face that managed to hide his embarrassment of checking out his grandfather. As Rick arched his back over the sink to get a closer look at his work, Morty couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to places they shouldn’t.<br/>-</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morty's First Shave

**Author's Note:**

> Rick and Morty get some bonding time...
> 
> Enjoy!

Fourteen is a tough age for everyone. Morty was no exception to the rule, but today a new, more painful insult graced his ears.

Fucking, _Jenny Snow._

“ _Trying to rock the peach fuzz, Muh Muh Mooorty?”_ she had mocked. “ _It’s sooo 1980’s_.”

He didn’t take most insults to heart, but this one was a little too close to the truth to ignore. The realization wasn’t as painful as needing deodorant or awkward boners, but it definitely made the list.

After school, Morty stood, cowering under the huge display of razors, shaving creams, and after shaves in the local pharmacy. His head shot from side to side nervously as he tried to make a decision.

 _So many colors and styles_ … he mused.

Picking up one with more bells and whistles, his breath hitched when he glanced down, noticing the price.

_Seventeen dollars for one fucking razor?!_

Reaching into his pocket, he pawed at the twenty dollar bill he’d been carrying. Leftover from his birthday a month or so ago, he had been saving it for something special. He had hoped maybe a new CD, headphones, or maybe even a date, but nothing had come up. Now seemed as good of a time as any.

Morty decided on the nicest one he could afford. Accompanied by some schwifty sounding name, the razor came in a large plastic case. Shuffling awkwardly, he made his way to the counter. Placing the razor at the register, the elderly woman working smiled kindly at him as she rang him up. Relieved by her lack of comments, Morty bolted from the store with the plastic bag in hand, not hearing the woman call after him for his change.

 

 

There were only a couple more blocks to go before making it home. Stopping at a nearby bench, Morty stuffed the plastic bag into his backpack, continuing on. Upon entering his house, Morty sprinted upstairs to the bathroom, promptly locking the door. He managed to avoid running into anyone, for which he was grateful.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Morty examined his face. It wasn’t much, but the darkening hair under his lip was certainly becoming more noticeable. Honestly, he couldn’t believe he had actually waited _this_ long.

Sitting on the toilet, Morty reached into his bag to pull out the plastic bag. Getting the razor out of the package was a project in itself. He was only able to get it free after some careful use of his teeth on the corners before ripping it open.

It looked… _intimidating_. Five blades, a dark handle with a fancy design, shaped for the contour of a man’s hand. He squeezed the handle slightly, noting the semi-squishy material beneath his fingers. Standing up from the toilet, he sat the razor on the edge of the sink, trying to come up with a strategy.

“Ok, ok… n-now… aww geeze…” Morty face palmed with a groan.

_Shaving cream. He forgot to get fucking shaving cream. _

No, he was _doing_ this. _Now_. There had to be some other alternative, right?

Looking around the bathroom he noticed some of Summer’s rose-scented lotion on the bathroom countertop. Cautiously, Morty reached over to take a few pumps of the liquid into his hand. After rubbing his palms together, Morty smoothed the lotion over his face carefully, cringing at the smell and texture. Once he was satisfied with his coverage, Morty picked up the razor with a shaky breath.

 

_Whap Whap Whap_

 

Shit. Someone’s at the door.

“M-Morty? Hur-hurry up kid, I-I’ve got to piss.”

Of course it would be Rick. Who else would _happen_ to show up at such an embarrassing moment?

“I-I-I’m busy, R-Rick! Please, g-go away!” Morty stuttered nervously. Rick was literally the _last_ person Morty wanted to see making a fool of himself. Not to mention his damn teenage hormones had been so incredibly out of whack lately. A few awkward boners around Rick had been confusing enough, not to mention Rick’s close proximity on a daily basis. Thinking about Rick made his stomach clench in the best kind of way, making him nauseous.

The raspy voice on the other side of the door was persistent.

“Come-come on, _Morty_ , what the hell are y-you doing in there? I-It doesn’t take _that_ long to take a shit, Christ.” Rick barked. He opened the door, which he apparently had picked, and Morty nearly fell over the toilet at his entry.

“F-Fuck off, Rick! I-I’m busy!”

Rick stared at his beet-red grandson with a cocked eyebrow. Surveying the bathroom, Rick noticed the new razor on the sink, along with the copious amount of lotion on Morty’s face.

“Christ, M-Morty, looks like you have jizz all over your face. Wh-What the fuck are you doing?”

Morty stood back up in front of the sink, gripping the edge. He felt hot, embarrassing tears burning in the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

“I-I’ve n-never shaved before, o-ok, _Rick_?! I-I just…” Morty trailed off, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Expecting a sarcastic reply, Morty jumped slightly when he felt Rick’s hands on his shoulders behind him, grinning at him through the bathroom mirror. The touch made Morty’s skin burn, and his breathing became ragged as the painfully handsome scientist laughed behind him lightly.

“It’s- it’s ok, Morty. I-I’ll help you.” Rick closed the door as he walked near the toilet. Morty’s heart nearly dropped in his toes when Rick began taking off his lab coat, then his blue shirt.

“Wh-Wh-What are y-you doing, Rick!?” Morty asked, a bit panicked.

Rick raised an eyebrow at him and scoffed.

“What does it look like, _Morty_. I-I don’t want to get shit on my shirt.”

Left in just his white tank top and trousers, Rick stood next to Morty in front of the mirror. He picked up the razor, examining it with a laugh.

“OoOo, b-big time, fancy razor y-you got here, Mort.” He teased, twirling it in his fingers.

“Sh-Shut up, Rick. I-I didn’t know what kind to buy…” Morty avoided his eyes as Rick chuckled again.

“Nah, it’s-it’s fine, Morty.”

Morty watched in astonishment as Rick reached underneath the sink with grace to pull out his own razor and a can of shaving cream. Reaching a bit passed Morty, Rick grabbed a towel and gentle wiped down Morty’s face.

“C-Can’t use fucking, lotion to shave with, M-Morty. It’ll leave one hell of a burn.”

Morty nodded mutely, frozen as Rick continued over his face with the towel. Satisfied with his work, Rick tossed the towel onto the sink, turning on the faucet.

“This, this right here, Morty? An important step one.” Turning the water on hot, Rick filled up the basin with water. He splashed the steamy water onto his face before dunking a washcloth into it. Ringing it out, he handed the washcloth to Morty.

“Put-put that on your face. It’ll soften the hair first. Th-though doesn’t look like you-you have much to soften up.” Rick badgered.

“Sh-Shut up, Rick!” Morty spat before taking the washcloth. The warmth of the water felt slippery against his over-lotioned face.

“N-Now, after you wet your face, you _have_ to use this stuff.” Rick said, gesturing towards the can.

Rick shook the can in his hands a few times before pressing the top of the canister, white foam pouring out. With skill and poise, Rick extended his neck slightly to pat the shaving cream on his neck and face. Morty watched, entranced by Rick’s subtle nuances, created by years of wisdom in the art of being a man. The grace of his hands, quick work of the fingertips, made Morty wish those hands were all over him instead.

Once his face was covered, Rick rinsed his hands and handed the can over to Morty.

“Be-be careful you don’t get too much, or-or not enough. Has to be juuuust the right amount.” Rick winked at him, his wolfish grin leaving Morty weak at the knees.

Morty tried to not let himself get distracted, so he turned towards the mirror again. With a gulp, he pressed the can until the white foam filled his palms. He tried to recreate exactly the same amount that the scientist had used. Patting his own face gently, he felt Rick laugh beside him.

“Y-Yeah, that’s. That’s good, Mort. Too much a-and the razor won’t cut. Too little a-and it’ll burn like a bitch.”

Looking at their reflections, Morty couldn’t help but giggle.

“H-Hey, Rick, ya know we-we kind look like uhh… like a couple of crazy, Santa Claus guys!” pointed at the white mass covering their faces.

Rick rolled his eyes with a hollow laugh. “Hah, _sure_ Morty. No-No one’s _ever_ heard that joke before.”

Picking up the older razor, Rick gestured with it while giving Morty careful directions.

“All-all right, Morty. Here’s the, the tough, big part, I guess. Some jerk-offs think it’s better to shave against the grain, but-but their fucking _idiots_ , Morty. Always go w-with the grain. Less nicks that way.”

Morty nodded again, briefly contemplating Rick’s words.

“Umm, Rick? What d-does, uhh… ‘ _against the grain’_ mean?” Morty asked quietly.

Sighing, Rick rolled his eyes. It was sometimes tough to remember how little Morty actually knew.

“It-it just means don’t pull up on the skin, but-but down. L-Like the direction the hair grows.”

Turning the water on hot, Rick ran the razor under the water for a few seconds.

“A-Always make sure to run it under some hot water first, Morty. M-Makes the blade work better.”

Leaning forward, Rick focused on his reflection intensely, bringing the razor up to the left side of his face.

“You need to-to, start with the easier spots first, Mort. A-And one side at a time.”

Morty was silent as he watched Rick in wonderment. When Rick extended his neck to get a better angle, he brought his other hand up to pull his skin tighter. Morty felt flush in his cheeks as he stared at Rick’s throat, the razor gliding over his flesh tauntingly. The boy was grateful for the thick white foam covering his face that managed to hide his embarrassment of checking out his grandfather. As Rick arched his back over the sink to get a closer look at his work, Morty couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to places they shouldn’t.

Rick was only about half done with his face, leaving the jawline and mouth area untouched. He stepped aside and gestured for Morty to take his place.

“H-Here, now you try.”

Morty could practically feel Rick’s breath on his neck as he stepped in front of him. It was easy for Rick to simply look over Morty’s head and into the mirror, so he stood with his arms crossed behind the boy. With a shaky hand, Morty picked up the razor. Holding it in his right hand, Morty swiped his left cheek in a downward motion.

After only a moment, Morty hissed in pain as he dropped the razor in the sink, a small trail of blood peeking through the white foam on his face. Before he could open his eyes again, he felt fabric across his face. Rick had turned him around, dabbing the blood with some toilet paper.

“J-Jesus, Christ, I-I-I can’t do it!” Morty wailed, thoroughly ashamed. Before his barrage of self-loathing could continue, he sucked in a breath when he felt Rick’s arms underneath his own, lifting him to sit on the sink, face to face with the striking, blue-eyed scientist.

“It’s, it’s ok, Morty, Jesus. You just pressed too hard. The pressure is real, reeeally important.”

Morty’s nose was practically in Rick’s chest as the old man reached behind him into the water to pull out the discarded razor. Shaking it dry, one of his hands rested on the top of Morty’s head as he titled the boy’s neck. Morty tried to control his breathing as the scent of Rick completely washed over his senses.

“Here, I’ll, I’ll sh-show you…” Rick trailed off, his voice softening a bit at the boy’s close proximity.

Morty’s hands shuffled in his lap. If he had been fighting off a hard-on at any point, all sense of it was tossed out the window the moment Rick shifted his head. The contact was continuous, unlike the occasional hair tussle or shoulder squeeze he was used to receiving. Rick, _his_ Rick, was holding him in such a vulnerable position that Morty wasn’t able to control his physical reactions.

The youth audibly gasped when he felt the warm metal of the razor trace down his neck in a fluid motion. Rick’s eyes were concentrated as he focused on the task at hand, careful not to hurt his grandson. At the current moment, it looked like Rick hadn’t noticed Morty’s development in his trousers. He did, however, notice the boy’s tension.

“E-Easy Morty, take- take a breath. Your old grandpa won’t, won’t let anything bad happen.”

Another swipe. This time it grazed a little closer to Morty’s mouth. It was all _exactly_ , the perfect pressure. Thinking about the flawless pressure of his hands got the teen thinking about other places those hands could inspire. Morty got goosebumps as he continued to watch Rick’s skillful hand’s work up and down his face, while still hyper aware of the other hand on his scalp.

Was Rick… _massaging_ his head? He had to be imagining it. And even if he was, it had to be in a half-hearted attempt to get him to relax, right?

The thought was interrupted by the tingling sensation of Rick’s fingernails grazing his scalp. He released Morty by letting his hand run through his hair, falling at his side.

“All-All right, Morty. You get-get the other half.”

Leaning behind Morty again, Rick dunked the razor in the hot water and handed it back to him. Strategically sliding off the counter to hide himself, Morty whirled around to push his middle into the sink to camouflage his arousal.

 

A comfortable silence fell over the two as they continued work on their own faces. All the while Morty imagined it was Rick’s hands, not his own, that glided over his face. After a few more pointers about over the lip and under the neck, both Rick and Morty were left with only remnants of white foam. Leaning over the sink, Rick emptied the foamy water to refill it again with cool water. Cupping his hands, he leaned down to splash the cold on his face. Morty was mesmerized watching the droplets make their way down Rick’s neck, onto the top of his white tank top.

“Ok, Morty. Get, get your face wet again. C-Cold this time.” Rick stepped aside again to let Morty in front of him, facing the mirror. Morty took a shaky breath as he leaned down to splash water on his own face, rubbing his cheeks and nose. A towel was waiting for him in Rick’s hand as he came back up for air. He was only inches away from Rick’s middle as he heard the old man chuckle.

“Nice, Mort. O-Ok, l-last step.”

Reaching under the sink again, Rick pulled out a small, white glass bottle. Dabbing some into his hands, he patted his face gently in the mirror.

“After shave h-helps with the burn. H-Here.” He said, dripping some into Morty’s waiting hand.

As he worked the light liquid around his face, Morty felt completely intoxicated by the smell. It was a scent he recognized, but had never smelled so strongly before now.

“W-Wow, it… it smells good, Rick… It-It smells like…” Morty trailed off, realizing the trap he had set for himself. It didn’t go unnoticed by Rick, who was smirking at him through the mirror.

“I-It smells like _me_ , right M-Morty?”

Time seemed to move in slow motion as Morty felt himself being lifted up to the edge of the sink again. Unconsciously, he grabbed at Rick’s shoulders as the old man began nuzzling him lightly on the side of his face. Morty gasped, but the tail end of the noise turned into a light moan as he felt Rick’s nose trace the underline of his jaw.

“Think… think you did a pretty… pretty good job there, M-Morty.” Rick purred on his skin. His deft fingers danced lightly up to Morty’s neck as he took another deep breath on his flesh. Instinctively, Morty bucked his hips forward at the contact. The exhale of Rick’s warm breath on his neck was far too close, but not nearly close enough.

Morty moved his hands from Rick’s shoulders to down his torso, pawing with a lack of experience at his abdomen. He felt Rick laugh above him as the scientist gripped both of Morty’s thighs, straddling him while pulling him closer.

“Christ, M-Morty, you… how long did you think you could keep, keep hiding these, hmm? Every, every time you’re around m-me? Check, checking out my ass in mirror?” Rick grinded forward slightly, emphasizing his words with body language, steel grip strong on both Morty’s thighs.

The teen mewled in response, trying to absorb himself further into Rick’s chest. The warm, rough sensation of Rick’s tongue kneaded on Morty’s jugular, building a heady moan from the youth. Before he could let the sound leave his lips, hands gripping blue hair, there was a harsh knock from reality. Morty froze as the voice of his mother jolted fear through his body.

 

“Dad?”

“Yeah, s-sweetie?” Rick called through the door, all the while still tracing light kisses up Morty’s smooth neck. He seemed completely at ease by the new development of his daughter behind the door.

“It’s time for dinner. Grab Morty too, would you?”

“N-No problem, sweetie. Be there in a minute.”

“Thanks, Dad!”

Beth’s soft footsteps faded as she walked down the stairs.

The momentary shock of almost being caught in the arms of his _grandfather_ by his _mother_ had Morty reeling. He was panting with excitement, fear, and pleasure all at the same time. Rick removed his hands from Morty’s legs to grip both sides of his face. Rick nuzzled across Morty’s smooth skin one more time, brushing his lips over the boy’s for only a second before pushing himself away casually. Stepping across the bathroom, he swiftly threw his blue shirt over his head, then slid gracefully into his trademark white labcoat.

Walking towards the door, he straightened the lapels of his jacket before smirking at the still heaving youth on the countertop.

“Good, good first lesson, Morty. But we have a looooot more to learn about, about shaving.”

The statement was paired with a wink and a grin, and as quickly as he had appeared, the flash of white disappeared down the hallway.

Morty slipped from the counter, turning to look at his reflection, only one thought running through his mind.

 

_…I wonder where else Rick could help me shave._

**Author's Note:**

> This was fun to write!
> 
> A shout out to my fiancé for walking me through the process of face shaving.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
